


War

by JayceCarter



Series: Kinktober 2017 [5]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Dark, Deepthroating, Domestic Violence, F/M, Humiliation, Kinktober, Kinktober 2017, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, Smut, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-09 06:38:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Arthur catches Nora trying to save Danse and decides to teach them both a lesson.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5: Humiliation 
> 
> **WARNING** This is very much noncon! It went a bit darker than I'd intended, but I really struggled with humiliation, so this is what I came up with. I guess that is the fun of prompts, you write stuff you didn't expect. It is what it is. :) 
> 
> I'm sorry to the Maxson fans, but tomorrow will be a nicer Maxson piece, promise!

 

Nora moved in front of Danse without even considering it. The moment Arthur came into view at the doorway of the bunker, face hard and angry, Nora could guess why he was there.

 

If anyone knew Nora, it was Arthur. He knew Nora wouldn’t kill Danse, that she couldn’t kill Danse, and that would set the young Elder off like nothing else.

 

They’d been so close. A few more feet and Danse could have run, he could have been safe. Just a few steps from freedom.

 

Instead, Arthur stood in front of the only exit, with the only weapon in the room. As always, he had all the power.

 

“Why is it still alive?” Arthur’s voice came out low, dangerous, a dare for her.

 

“He is still alive because I won’t kill him. It’s wrong, Arthur.”

 

“You’d risk yourself for that thing?”

 

Nora walked forward. She knew Arthur, better than anyone else. He raged, much like any twenty-year-old man, but he cooled, too. If they could only survive long enough for his temper to cool, he’d realize the mistake. He’d never come out and say it, of course, never apologize. Not Elder Arthur Maxson, but he would back off, look the other way, pretend he didn’t know.

 

If they could survive this.

 

“Danse is my friend. I can’t kill him, and I can’t let you kill him, either.” Nora spoke softly, crouching to catch his gaze.

 

Arthur reached out and snatched the collar of her vault suit. He twisted her as he yanked her against him, so her back pressed against his chest, and she could only stare at Danse.

 

Danse, her mentor, her friend. His gaze was hard, mind moving as he calculated, as he tried to find a way out.

 

She shook her head, trying to tell him to stay calm. They needed more calm, less emotion.

 

“You’re picking that thing over me? I've given you everything, and you're betraying me for that?" Arthur's fingers flexed around his rifle. 

 

“No, Arthur. I'm not picking him, but I couldn’t live with myself if I killed him, and I’ll never forgive you if you do it.”

 

“I don’t need forgiveness. I’m Elder, and whether you want to admit it or not, you love me.”

 

Danse winced, as if the words had reached across the room and slapped him.

 

Arthur chuckled, the sound vibrating from his chest and into her. “He didn’t know? You never told him about us? That’s right, machine, I’ve been fucking her for months. Don’t think I never noticed the way you stare at her, like a dog that wants a treat someone else has.”

 

Danse locked his gaze on Nora, eyebrows drawn together. “Is that true? You’re in love with him?”

 

“No. I mean, we’ve been together, but, it’s not like that. I'd never been like that.” Even as she spoke, she knew it was a lie.

 

No matter how fucked up whatever they had was, it was the closest thing to love she’d felt since waking up. Danse had offered something good, but she’d never accepted. It hadn’t been right, or maybe the problem was that it had been too right.

 

With Danse, she could have been happy. With Danse, she could have started over, had a real life, and that was exactly why she'd run from what Danse had offered.

 

With Arthur? She’d never really love Arthur, could never really love a man like that, and that made him safe. He could cut deep enough for her to feel something, no matter how it hurt.

 

“So you want to lie to him? Is that it?” His teeth scraped over her pulse.

 

“Just let him go, Arthur, please. For me? I've never asked you for anything before, but I'm asking for this."

 

"I don't answer to you and I don't give gifts." 

 

"Then understand this. If he dies, I can promise I won’t live another week. It will break me.” And it was true. She’d lost too much, and losing Danse would kill her. Danse was the future she sometimes pretended was possible, and him being gone tore that away. 

 

Arthur’s arm tightened around her, but his body stilled. Hesitation? Arthur wasn’t one to hesitate. “If I let him live, you’ll stay with me?”

 

“Yes. Whatever you want. I promise.”

 

“Don’t do this, Nora!” Danse took a step forward but Arthur lifted the rifle to stop him. Danse stepped backward, but spoke softly to her. “Don’t, Nora. I’ve made my peace with this. I am a machine, and I’ll die for it. I won’t let you suffer for my crimes.”

 

“You don’t have any crimes, Danse. It’s not your fault-“

 

Arthur covered her mouth with his hand to silence her. “Enough. Very well, Nora, I’ll let him live. He can walk out of here after we’re done, but as far as the Brotherhood will know, he’ll be dead. First though?” Arthur released her mouth and grasped the zipper of her vault suit, pulling to down in a quick tug. “First, I think he needs a demonstration of who owns you, and you need a reminder.”

 

His hand reached into her suit to grasp her breast, too tight for her comfort, but it still affected her. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to pull pleasure from her no matter how she felt about it.

 

From that first time, when she’d smarted off to him, and he’d drug her into a corner and fucked her against a wall, he’d used her body against her. No matter how much she argued or pulled away, he could always draw her closer, make her desperate.

 

“Don’t do this, Arthur, please,” she begged.

 

He closed his fingers around her nipple in a tight pinch that had her swinging her head back. She smacked his shoulder, since he’d moved his face to avoid the instinctual move.

 

“Keep your eyes on it. I want it to see exactly what it’ll never have. I want you to moan my name as I make you come, my name as I fuck you. I want that thing to see all of it. And before either of you come up with any foolish ideas, understand this: if either of you leave this bunker without me, the soldiers outside will open fire.”

 

Nora shuddered a deep breath when he released her and set the rifle on the table. He used both hands to pull off her vault suit, shoes, socks, underwear. Before she knew it, she stood there naked, back to Danse.

 

Arthur grasped her shoulder and turned her back around.

 

Danse’s pupils blew wide, gaze studying her head to toe. Then his cheeks reddened and he drug his gaze back to her eyes, a silent apology.

 

He was always sorry. Sorry for looking, for wanting her, for watching.

 

Arthur reached both hands around her and cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples. “You know, I was inside of her within ten minutes of meeting her. No matter what she pretends, she’s a whore. Well, a whore for men, at least. Even she won’t sink to fucking a machine.”

 

Nora closed her eyes, but Arthur pinched hard on a nipple in punishment. She snapped them back open.

 

He slid one hand down, having to bend slightly to reach between her legs. His fingers found her clit despite how she squeezed her thighs together, like nothing could stop him, nothing detour him. He was always this, something she couldn’t dissuade, couldn’t outmaneuver.

 

She’d rather he just fucked her. She wanted him to push her over a surface and get it over with. She could face Danse again if that was all he saw, but she knew Arthur.

 

He’d make good on his threat. He wanted to destroy both her and Danse. Her by making her come, by humiliating her in front of Danse, and Danse by forcing him to stand there and watch while another man took the woman he loved.

 

And Danse did love her. She knew it. It was one reason she could never pursue anything with him. He wanted her too much.

 

Even as she thought about that, Arthur’s fingers stroked her clit until it swelled, until her she struggled to stay silent.

 

That was one of the things about Arthur that always got her. He was a tactician at heart, and he could pay attention when he needed to. Over all the times they’d fucked, he’d learned how to play her, and he used every one of those lessons then.

 

He reached down with his other hand and grasped her leg, lifting it up and to the side. It bared her cunt to Danse, her cheeks heating as his gaze locked on what Arthur’s fingers were doing.

 

With her leg out of the way, her cunt spread, Arthur’s touch was even more direct. It only took another few strokes before she came, arch back against him. His name fell from her lips, a plea or a curse, she wasn’t sure. She’d have fallen if it wasn’t for the bruising grip Arthur had on her leg.

 

Arthur dropped her leg and let her collapse to her knees. He lifted his fingers up to show Danse. “See how wet she gets for a real man? How long have you wanted her and gotten nothing? She begs for me, did you know that? I’ve had her crawl across the floor of the Command Deck for me, begging to suck my cock.” His gaze dropped to hers, lips tilting up. “Speaking of. . .”

 

Nora moved closer, knowing exactly what he wanted. At least she didn’t have to look at Danse during this. She undid the buckles of his jumpsuit until she could open the crotch area. The one good thing about the damned jumpsuits? She didn’t need to complete disrobe Arthur.

 

He didn’t help, folding his hands behind his head. He wanted Danse to see her do the work, to force her to be the one to touch him, to lick him.

 

Nora grasped his cock with one hand and slid it into her mouth, no teasing and no playing. Even as she told herself she hated this, part of her wanted it. That part that had woken up in this world wanted the brutality of the man above her. It was safe.

 

“You see? She plays at being a soldier, but this is what she’s really worth. This is why I keep her, why I promoted her. Deeper, Nora. Don’t be lazy. You wanted to save Danse, let’s show it why it is still alive.”

 

Nora closed her eyes and followed the directions. She set one hand on his hip, leaning forward to take him deeper. She swallowed around him, taking all of him until her nose pressed against his pubic hair. She went to pull away, but his hand closed around her hair, keeping her pinned.

 

Her eyes watered and she dug her nails into his hip, but nothing moved him.

 

After too long, he pulled her back by her hair. “You do have a talented mouth. Every damned time I have to hear you talk, I wonder why I ever let you do anything but suck cock with it.”

 

He moved one foot forward, his boot pressing against her cunt, until he rubbed her clit with it. She was so damned sensitive from her previous orgasm she opened her mouth to object. He took the chance to slam his cock back into her mouth and down her throat.

 

His boot ground against her clit, too painful to be pleasurable, and yet she still responded. What the hell was wrong with her? He’d pull back enough for her to struggle in a few breaths before tugging her back onto his cock. This rhythm went on so long, Nora felt the start of another orgasm stirring. Her stomach tightened, thighs shaking against it. Once she could deal with, but twice?

 

The more she fought against the pleasure, the more ashamed she got that she was getting off on this, the easier it was for him to push her toward that edge.

 

“Look at that, she’s trying to not come?” Condescension colored the words, as if it was adorable. He shifted his boot forward so the laces rubbed against her clit, and the additional friction, along with his voice, was too much.

 

Just as she came, he yanked her off, sending her falling onto the floor. She twisted slightly on the floor as her body recovered, both sucking in breath fulls of air and trying to settle.

 

“Acceptable,” he muttered, then pointed at the desk. “On there, on your back.”

 

Nora drug herself to her feet, unsteady. Almost done, she told herself. Arthur didn't have patience, which meant he'd finish this and she could move on.

 

When she didn’t move fast enough, Arthur grabbed her arm to pull her to the desk. He shoved her back, though he made sure she didn’t hit her head.

 

Her thighs pressed together, but he gripped her knees and spread them wide as he settled between them, standing at the end of the desk. The desk sat close enough that Danse could see over her leg, could see Arthur’s saliva covered cock rubbing against her cunt.

 

He could see everything, which was exactly the point.

 

Arthur had been jealous of Danse the entire time, even before finding out he was a synth. He’d been sure the older man would try to steal Nora away, and often fucked her the moment she returned from missions, like he was claiming her again.

 

“This is what you’ll never have,” Arthur snapped at Danse before he shoved in.

 

Nora arched up off the desk, hands digging into the front of Arthur’s jacket, trying to hold on to something. It hurt, but it always hurt. He was too large to go in so fast, to bury himself in one thrust, but he always did anyway. Her body responded to the familiar sting, to the stretch that she’d grown to crave.

 

Arthur knocked her hands off and grasped her knees, spreading her legs wide again and pushing them up for a better angle. It put a strain on her hips, but causing his cock to press against her in a way that had her breath stuttering.

 

“Touch yourself for me,” he said, voice rough but almost loving, that edge it got when she could almost think she could love him, when she thought, for a moment, that maybe they were something more.

 

Nora reached a shaking hand between her legs to slide along her clit, gentle touches that still made her tighten around him and gasp. She rubbed along the top, not directly against the sensitive flesh.

 

“Say you love me.” Arthur reached forward and closed a hand around Nora’s throat. It blocked some of Danse’s view, but Arthur seemed to not care. “Say that you want me, that you’ll never love it, that you only love me.”

 

Nora wrapped a leg around Arthur’s waist, lost in the moment, in the brutality of it all. That’s what this whole fucking world was, though. It was Arthur. It was brutal and ugly and it would kill her.

 

And right then? Right then she was fine with that.

 

“I’ll never love you,” she said before he tightened his grip to stop any other words

 

“You do love me. You just don’t want to admit it.”

 

“You’re going to kill her,” Danse said, though he didn’t move.

 

“I’d never kill her. She’s mine, the other half of me, everything I could want. This is what you will never understand, why she never wanted you.” Arthur’s hand remained on her throat. “I’ll let go when you come,” he told her.

 

Nora sped her fingers, his other hand releasing her leg and going to her breast. The asshole wanted to help her, it seemed. That’s how he was, though. His word was law, but he often spoke without thinking. He’d choke her until she passed out or came. He had to, since he’d said it, but now he was forced to try and help her, like some cheap consolation prize.

 

He leaned in as he closed his fingers around her nipple and tweaked it. His lips brushed hers. “Love you so fucking much, Nora.”

 

She came, and as soon as she started to tighten around him, he released her throat. His hands went to her hips and he fucked her harder, ignoring the way she struggled against his brutal pace, the way he slid against her sensitive walls. She gasped in breaths, nails digging into the desk, until he shoved in deep and came.

 

He always came inside her, hoping for that Maxson offspring that would be the final nail in her coffin. She’d never told him she’d had a tubal after Shaun, that he had no hopes of impregnating her. A petty thrill left her each time he pulled out and forced her legs wide, each time he pressed his fingers into her, pushing his come back inside with that longing on his face.

 

He didn’t do that this time, like that was somehow a private moment between them, only pulling out and fastening his jumpsuit.

 

“Nora. . .” Danse’s voice was soft, full of concern.

 

Nora rolled off the desk, but her feet wouldn’t hold. Arthur caught her, then set her on the desk. He picked up her clothing and walked back over to her.

 

He pressed something against her cunt, her clit so sensitive she cried out and pulled away. He used the cloth to gather up his come and her wetness, then tossed it at Danse. It hit the Paladin in the chest. “A reminder for you, and a gift. That’s the closest you’ll ever get to having her.”

 

Arthur helped her dress, then tucked his arm around her, pulling her against his side. He pressed a soft kiss to her head.

 

Nora turned to face Danse, wanting to say. . . something. She was sorry? Something.

 

She couldn’t stay, though, because she’d ruin him. She’d done enough to him, hurt him enough. He deserved to move on, to find someone who could love him, to have a good life. None of those things she could give him.

 

Danse’s face was pulled tight, skin between his eyebrows wrinkled, hands drawn into impotent fists.

 

She twisted away when no words came, and Arthur’s laugh as he pulled her tighter against him had her trembling.

 

Once inside the Vertibird, Arthur moved so he faced her. He leaned in so he could whisper into her ear. “I love you, Nora, and you’re mine. I know that was hard on you, but it was needed. Hard decisions have to be made in war.”

 

“This isn’t war.” Nora stared out the vertibird, at the bunker, at where Danse was, where his whole world had fallen down around him.

 

Arthur kissed her cheek like she was stupid, but that was okay. “Love is always war, and trust me, war is one thing I can win at." 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. . . this happened. Chapter 2. SORRY! 
> 
> I couldn't help it.

 

Arthur took a drink of his beer, gaze on Nora over the rim of the bottle. It was the first meal they’d shared since the incident with Danse, and the tension was thick.

 

Three weeks had passed, the longest amount of time they’d been apart. She hadn’t been avoiding him, not exactly, but with being given Danse’s rank and the problems with the settlements, she’d been busy.

 

Busy, and in no hurry to return to Arthur.

 

“I’ve missed you.”

 

His voice startled her, and she jumped when he spoke. A flush on her cheeks had her tucking her hair behind her ear. “Sorry. I’ve been busy.”

 

He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then balled it up and set it onto the place.

 

Exactly like the one he’d cleaned her with and then thrown at Danse.

 

“You’re angry with me.”

 

“No.”

 

“I do not tolerate lying.”

 

Nora put her fork down, ended the charade of eating. “Why did you have to do that? You humiliated me. You hurt me.”

 

He sighed, like the question wasn’t unexpected, but still unpleasant. “I’m sorry you were hurt, but that is why I had you examined by Cade afterward, why I had you given med-x. I would not risk seriously damaging you. You were the one who wanted Danse alive, who insisted he live. He needed to understand the stakes, to understand that this was serious. You needed to understand not to defy me anymore. It was simply a tactical choice, nothing else.”

 

Bullshit. Arthur could pretend all he wanted that he was just being logical, but that had been possession. He’d been doing his equivalent of pissing on a tree to claim it as his. Hell, maybe she could be thankful he hadn’t finished by pissing on her.

 

Arthur had been competing with Danse as long as she’d known the men, a competition Danse knew nothing about. The Paladin adored Arthur, or had at least.

 

Danse had sent messages with minutemen, asking Nora to visit, asking to check on her. He hadn’t said what happened, but the messages never stopped.

 

Not that she could ever face him again.

 

“Right. Tactical.”

 

Arthur stood and walked over to where Nora sat. She didn’t look up, too afraid for him to read what was on her face.

 

His fingers danced along the neckline of her shirt. “I told you when this started, Nora. You’re mine. I don’t want to hurt you, but when you don’t listen, you risk getting hurt. Not hurt like when I take you a little hard, but really hurt. The sort you don’t walk away from. Don’t blame me for caring about you that much.”

 

His words sounded good. They always did.

 

Nora thought back to her friend who had dated this asshole, back before the war. The asshole had knocked her around, called her names, and Nora had been the one to convince her to leave.

 

Now that was Nora. Arthur didn’t hit her, but he hurt her far deeper.

 

And worse? She craved it. Easier this way.

 

His hands went to her shoulders, massaging the muscles there, thumbs digging in, reminding her how much larger he was.

 

Nora said nothing, just sat still.

 

He slid a hand forward and down her shirt. He pushed her bra out of the way and cupped her breast, a brazen touch, a reminder that he did own her. He could do whatever he wanted and she had no say.

 

Nora could scream her head off, but if Arthur didn’t okay her leaving, she’d never leave.

 

He leaned in, lips against her ear. “I Love you so much, Nora. Tell me you love me.”

 

“I love you.”

 

He drug his teeth over her earlobe. “Say it like you mean it.”

 

“I can’t, because I don’t.”

 

Arthur pulled his hand from her shirt, then grasped her arm to tug her to her feet and against him. “You do, and you feel it when I’m inside you.” He took her mouth in a kiss she didn’t return as he guided her to the bed.

 

He wasn’t rough, but hell, a lot of the time he wasn’t. It was worse when he wasn’t. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I love you, you know that.”

 

He stripped her slowly, carefully. His lips pressed kissed to every damned inch of her, claiming her piece by piece. His tongue toyed with her nipple, teeth scraping across, before this tongue dipped into her navel.

 

He stripped himself too, always efficient.

 

She’d missed his body the last time, missed feeling his warmth against her. As much as she needed their distance, she hated when he felt like a thing instead of a man. The scratching of his chest hair against her, the solid heat of his thighs as they bracketed her, she needed that.

 

He spread her thighs, fingers pushing into her. Her own wetness made it not hurt, though it stung. It always stung, no matter how much he prepared her, no matter how slow he went. “You always wince,” he whispered against her hipbone as he kissed. “You always flinch when I touch you.”

 

Because she didn’t trust him. Because she couldn't relax enough to not be tense. Because she knew what was between them. She said none of that.

 

He sighed, withdrawing his fingers. Impatient, as always. He moved over her, rubbing his cock against her. “You do love me. You wouldn’t come back here if you didn’t. How many have you killed, Nora? If you didn’t want me, if you didn’t love me, you’d either run or kill me.”

 

He shoved into her, filling her too fast.

 

She gasped, heels planting on the bed to push away, but he wrapped one arm behind her back to pull her against him and keep her still. He set a brutal pace, too hard to enjoy, too deep to do anything but endure.

 

“You’re perfect for me, Nora. We belong together. Don’t stay away so long next time; I miss you when you’re gone, think about you constantly. You’re mine, my everything. When I’m inside you like this, nothing else matters.” He leaned in and kissed the tears off her cheeks, his free hand brushing through her hair like he was comforting her. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’d never hurt you, so this doesn’t really hurt. You’re just resisting it. Give in and everything would be so much easier on you.”

 

He came before long, pulling out and kneeling between her legs. His fingers gathered the come that leaked from her and pushed it back into her. “You’ll have my heirs someday. Maybe then you’ll realize what we have, realize what we could have, what we will have. Would you like that? To give me sons?”

 

Nora knew what he expected to hear, and she couldn’t find it in her to argue. “Yes,” she whispered.

 

But it would never happen. Even if she could get pregnant, she’d kill herself before she gave him children.

 

 

#

 

 

Nora sighed as she listened to Preston. He droned on about what was needed, about all the problems they still faced, about everything he needed her to do.

 

She never seemed able to stay on top of it all.

 

“Yes, I’ll take care of it. Can I please go lie down first? I just got here.”

 

Preston nodded, face dropping. “Oh, yes, of course General. I didn’t mean to imply you needed to do it now.” That look of guilt reminded her of when she’d tell Codsworth she didn’t need anything, that abject disappointment from someone who was honestly trying to do good.

 

So few of them around.

 

Nora patted his shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m just really tired. I’ll see you at dinner?”

 

He nodded face brightening again. “Of course, General. Rest well.”

 

Nora drug herself into the house she’d taken as her own. It wasn’t the one she’d lived in with Nate, she couldn’t stomach going in there. Plus, it was far too much room for her.

 

Instead, she’d taken a newly built shack at the far end, preferring privacy over convenience. She moved into the one bedroom, wood building, dropping her things on the floor.

 

She ached. It wasn’t pain like when shot or seriously injured, but the full night with Arthur had left her sore. Moving aggravated it, and all she wanted was to lie down and sleep it off.

 

Arthur hadn’t been mean, not outright, but he’d been insistent. He’d taken her over and over, the benefit of being young, she supposed. Even in the night, when she’d fallen asleep, she’d wake a few hours later as he nudged into her, kissing her neck, her shoulder. She never told him no, never told him stop.

 

She never did, not really. She hung onto the pain, the soreness, because it was easier. That was Arthur, and she could deal with him.

 

Nora’s eyes felt so heavy she crawled into the bed without looking around, curling up into the fetal position, a soft whimper on her lips.

 

“I was worried about you.”

 

She didn’t move at the voice, the one she’d never forget, the one that haunted her. “What are you doing here, Danse?”

 

“I sent word, wanted to see you.”

 

The bed didn’t dip, not like it would have with Arthur. He’d have crawled into the bed beside her, have already been trying to get her pants off. Not Danse, though. He was somewhere behind her in the room, like the silent guardian he’d been in that fucking bunker, where he watched as everything had burned around her.

 

“What was there to see that you haven’t already seen? Not really anything else to say, is there?”

 

A soft sigh. “How long?”

 

“Since the start. Since that first time you took me up to the Prydwen.”

 

He sucked in an unhappy breath. “You’ve suffered that long?”

 

“It’s not suffering. I go back to him, every fucking time.”

 

“And he hurts you. I heard that sound you made when you laid down, Nora. I know what that means.”

 

Nora wrapped her arms around herself like she could hold together the pieces he chipped away with his concern. “Go away, Danse. I can’t look at you, okay? I can’t do this with you.”

 

“If you can do whatever it is you do with him, you’re strong enough to face me.”

 

Nora twisted, ignoring the way the movement hurt, until she knelt on the bed to face him.

 

And fuck. . . it did hurt. His face, his fucking face so open and honest and caring. He stared at her like she was still the best thing in the whole world, like she mattered, like she was worth something.

 

“What do you want me to say?” She shouted the question at him. “That I let him hurt me because it’s easier? That I go back to him because it hurts, because I need that?”

 

“You don’t have to do that, Nora. You don’t have to go back to him. I’d love you, you know. He was right, I do love you, I have since the start.”

 

Nora slid her hands into her hair, leaning forward. “And that’s why I can’t have you. I lost Nate and it destroyed me, twisted me. I could love you so fucking easily, Danse. I could fall right into you and we could be happy, so fucking happy, but I can’t. I can’t survive losing that again, and I don’t know if anything else would survive it either. Something inside me snapped when I lost Nate, and I’m holding on somehow, but losing you, too? Fuck, I’d shatter.”

 

Danse crouched down beside the bed, not touching her, not touching the bed, only trying to capture her gaze. “I’ve followed you for months, Nora. Nothing can shatter you. Not Arthur, and certainly not me.”

 

Nora reached out, dragging her fingers along his jaw. He didn’t have the beard Arthur had, only the stubble that happened when he didn’t shave often enough. It scratched against her fingers as she touched.

 

He turned his face toward her palm, pressed a gentle kiss there. “What happened-“

 

“Don’t talk about it.”

 

“We have to.”

 

Nora wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and tugged him forward until he got onto the bed beside her. “We don’t. We really don’t need to talk about it. What does it matter?”

 

“It matters because I watched him rape you, Nora, in front of me to teach us both a lesson. It matters because you did it for me, because you suffered for me, and because you are still suffering for no good reason. You matter, so this matters.”

 

Nora sighed before she laid back down, moving slowly, unable to hide the wince.

 

Danse hesitated, not moving from his spot. “I shouldn’t-“

 

“-you should be quiet and not argue with me.”

 

He smiled, but the lines of tension didn’t disappear. He stretched out beside her, not touching her. “I want to kill him, Nora.”

 

“You can’t.”

 

“I could. I know him better than most. If anyone could kill him, I could.”

 

She shook her head, folding one arm beneath her head. “I’m not saying you physically couldn’t. I’m say that I couldn’t ever let you do that.”

 

His lips tilted down. “Do you love him?”

 

“No. That’s why I stay, because every time he hurts me, I know I’ll never love him. You’re like Nate was, you know that? The brave soldier, the good man, everything I could ever want. But, that was the old world, that was my old life. This new world? It’s vicious and brutal and everything Arthur is. So, no, I don’t love him. I’ll never love him, and that’s why it works.”

 

Danse reached out, slowly, like he wanted to give her the chance to tell him to stop. When she didn’t, he set a hand on her lower stomach. “It’s not working, though. You say that losing someone you loved again would kill you, but Nora, I watched what he did to you. That is killing you, and he’ll finish you off if you let him.”

 

Nora leaned in and brushed her lips against his in a gentle kiss. Nothing like what happened when Arthur kissed her, when he took and never gave, when he tore away pieces of her until she didn't even recognize what was left over. 

 

Danse responded, tentative, careful, like he did everything.

 

Nora broke the kiss after a moment, then scooted closer until she could curl against his chest. His arm slung over her, and that crushing feeling of being trapped didn’t happen, not like it did when Arthur held her.

 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said nothing else as they drifted off to sleep.

 

#

 

It always took Nora a moment to regain her balance when getting off a vertbird and onto the Prydwen. It rocked and swayed, and the sensation of wanting to vomit over the side always took her surprise.

 

She’d left the bed before Danse had woken, not wanting to fight with him, to talk to him. She couldn’t not return to the Prydwen, but she knew that’s what he’d want from her. He’d tell her to stay away, to stay with him, but that wasn’t her.

 

She couldn’t stay away. She needed the Brotherhood.

 

And Arthur?

 

She wasn’t sure what to think about him. Spending the night with Danse, with his breath spilling over her, his arm around her, had been. . . nice.

 

It had been something she’d thought was gone.

 

“Paladin Jacobs?” Arthur stood by his door as she went to pass. He nodded his head in. “A word?”

 

Probably wanted to claim her again, to mark his territory. He didn’t care they’d just done this two nights ago, didn't care she might still be sore.

 

Nora walked into the room, the click of the door as it closed making her want to bolt, to run. Fuck, had she ever really wanted to run before?

 

“Is something wrong, Arthur?”

 

He walked over to her and pulled her against him, lips taking hers in a kiss that was nothing like the one she’d shared with Danse. So this was it? Just in need of a quick fuck.

 

She took a deep breath through her nose to ready herself, to accept it.

 

Instead, he broke the kiss and moved his lips to her ear. “So, Nora, did you spread those legs of yours for Danse last night?”

 

Fear settled in the pit of Nora’s stomach at Arthur’s words, which she heard clearly for the threat they were meant to be.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

The water struck Nora’s face, hot enough she flinched. Arthur had stripped her clothing off before all but tossing her into the shower. He'd not said another word to her, just tearing at her clothing. He'd snapped the hip of her panties, torn her shirt.

 

Nora twisted, spitting the water out of her mouth, arm crossing over her chest by instinct.

 

Arthur stripped down before he got into the shower behind her.

 

“Nothing happened,” Nora said yet again.

 

“Like I would believe you. Do you think I don’t have people in your settlements loyal to the Brotherhood? Or at least loyal to the caps I pay them? I knew it had gone to Sanctuary, but I had hoped you’d kick it out. I'd wanted to see you choose me over it. Imagine my surprise to find out it stayed in your place all night.” Arthur took a rag, lathering it with soap, before he began to scrub her. The fabric scratched her skin, turning it red. “That thing betrayed me, and now you? Now you decide to turn your back on me, too? I let it live, Nora, and this how you repay me?”

 

Nora tried to shove his hands off, but he was larger and stronger than her.

 

He wrapped an arm around her chest, pulling her against him, scrubbing her front while he spoke into her ear, voice just above the water. “What do you want from me? I give you everything, try everything, and yet you do nothing but defy me!”

 

Arthur rubbed the rag across Nora’s breasts, paying special attention to her nipples. Whether he was trying to scrub them in case Danse had touched them or he was trying to get a reaction, Nora didn’t know. Did it really matter?

 

“I told you, we didn’t have sex. He showed up, and I was in pain from the night before. In pain from you!” Nora tried to throw her elbow back into Arthur’s side, but the wet tub floor caused her to lose her balance.

 

Arthur tried to grab her arm, to keep her upright, but her slick skin slid from his grasp.

 

Nora fell, hitting her arm against the edge of the tub. She released a pained gasp, tucking her arm against her stomach.

 

Arthur leaned down, crouching in the water that had gathered in the tub. He spread her thighs, using the rag to rub against her cunt, fingers pressing the cloth into her. “Tell me the truth, Nora. Did it fuck you? I need to know.”

 

She shook her head, unable to speak, the pain in her shoulder all she could focus on. She’d dislocated it. Had to.

 

“You swear? I could forgive you if you did, but I needed to know. I will not fuck you if you’re filthy from that machine.”

 

Nora shook her head again, clutching the arm.

 

Arthur took a deep breath, pulling the cloth away, letting it drop in the basin of the tub. “Good. I’m glad. I believe you, Nora, I believe that you didn’t fuck it.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, the water streaming down over them both.

 

“My arm,” Nora said, hissing in a breath when his weight jostled it.

 

Arthur pulled back, frowning. His eyes widened as he saw the way Nora clutched the arm. “Your arm. . .”

 

Arthur turned the handles, shutting off the water. He pulled on his clothing, seeming to ignoring the way his damp skin caused the fabric to wet and to cling to him. He took a towel from the sink and wrapped her in it, moving quickly toward the clinic.

 

#

 

Two hours later, Arthur settled Nora into his bed. She was unsteady on her feet, the med-x swirling through her system. Her shoulder was bruised and Cade had secured it in a sling, dressed in a large shirt.

 

She looked beautiful, lightly drugged, not fighting him for once. She squirmed backward on the bed, shirt riding up to show her thighs.

 

She’d drawn him in from the start, this perfect female, the perfect partner for him. He’d lived his entire life hearing about what he deserved, what he should have, who he should be with. The moment she’d walked into the room, smirk on her lips, hand on her hip, he'd known it was her. 

 

She’d smarted off to him, and he’d backed her into a corner to have her. She’d dug her nails into his shoulders, legs around his waist, back against the wall, moaning his name.

 

He’d fallen for her then, known they were meant to be. She’d come from Roger Maxson’s time, from the start, and yet she’d ended up in his time. That had to be fate, a show of force from the past, a connection to the grand start of the Brotherhood.

 

She was a sign. His sign.

 

Sure, she struggled against it, but she’d give in.

 

Arthur stripped down before he crawled into the bed beside her. He set his hand on her waist, the gentle curve above her hip that always fascinated him.

 

Her body was so different than his. Strong, sure, but lithe. Where he was large, Nora was small. Where his skin was rough, callused, and tanned from the sun, hers was pale and unblemished.

 

Nora’s thighs rubbed against each other before she bent them at the knee, eyes unfocused.

 

“How’s your arm?”

 

“My arm?” She frowned and lifted her head to look down at her arm. “Oh fuck! Arthur is going to be so mad.”

 

He smiled at her tone, petulant and resigned. “I think I’ll get over it.”

 

“Good.”

 

Arthur slid his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. She wore no panties, no bra, nothing that kept him from all of her except the fabric of the shirt.

 

She pushed at his hand with her uninjured hand. “Not tonight.”

 

He rolled closer, sliding hand between her thighs to spread them, then pinned one down with his leg. “I’ll be gentle with you, Nora. Seeing you hurt, worrying about what that thing might have done to you, I need you.” He pressed his lips to her injured shoulder in a light kiss, an apology. He’d never meant to hurt her, she had to know that. “Don’t push me away, please.”

 

She shook her head, eyes drifting. Her tongue traced her lip. He wanted to lean in and capture that tongue between his lips, to taste her. Instead, when his hand traveled up to her breast, she whimpered.

 

She always wanted him. Even when she fought him, when she tried to shove him away, she always wanted him. He knew it in her moans, in the way she got wet for him. And she did. Her body responded to his touch every damned time. She could lie to him with her lips all she wanted, but her body never lied.

 

If she didn’t want him, she’d never come back.

 

No one forced Nora to do anything she didn’t want, so if she really didn’t want him, if she didn’t love him, she’d be long gone. Hell, she’d probably kill him. She’d killed enough other people.

 

Arthur wanted her naked, exposed for him, but with her arm in the sling, there was no way. Instead, he gripped the neckline of her shirt of ripped it down the middle. It let him trace her body with his gaze.

 

Other than the bruising over her shoulder, she was flawless, as always.

 

Arthur moved over her, knees between her thighs to keep them spread, before he leaned in and captured a nipple between his lips. The other breast was hidden beneath the sling, so Arthur lavished attention on the one.

 

Nora’s hips lifted, her free hand shoving at his shoulder. A weak protest, just a token one, just to make herself feel better. She’d give in. She always gave in.

 

“Don’t leave me, Nora.” He grasped his cock and rubbed it against her cunt. She wouldn’t come, not drugged as she was. She’d taken med-x before, after a bullet wound suffered on a mission, and it seemed to affect her libido. Unfortunate, as much he loved to watch her writhe as she came, but he could only do what he could do.

 

Arthur pushed into her. She was tight, and not as wet as he’d like, but that was okay. He needed her, to feel her wrapped around him. The rest they could deal with later. She whined, face tensing.

 

Nora pressed her hand against his chest, pushing weakly. He captured her lips in a kiss, following her even as she twisted her face away. When her face moved far enough, he just went to kissing her jaw, her ear. She was drugged and in pain, so he forgave her for not following, for not behaving.

 

“You are perfect for me, Nora. I’m never letting you go.”

 

The tears that ran down her cheeks were her only response, but he only swore to prove to her how right he was for her.

 

No one was every going to take her away from him. Not even her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides from Feral21 because it's another bad Arthur story*

 

Nora walked into her house in Sanctuary, arm still in the sling. It ached, but the stimpacks had dealt with the brunt of the damage. Cade had okayed her to leave, but Arthur had made her promise she wouldn’t do anything dangerous until she’d healed fully.

 

He hadn’t wanted her to leave, but he also never held her against her will. How he looked to his men mattered, and trying to imprison one of his Paladins for no good reason wouldn’t look good. Her arm was explained as a fall in the shower, which was as good an excuse as any, she supposed.

 

“What happened?” Danse walked into the house from outside, grease on his jeans. He must be working with Sturges.

 

“I fell.” Nora dropped her pack to the floor.

 

“Arthur did it, didn’t he?”

 

She sighed, eyes sliding closed. “Not exactly. I was arguing with him, and I slipped and fell.”

 

He rubbed his palms on the front of his jeans, grease left in their wake. “Don’t lie to me, Nora. After everything that has happened, at least give me the truth. I can take it.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

He went to close the door, but hesitated. Was he worried Nora would fear him? “Can I close the door?”

 

“Yeah.” Nora slid her pack from her other arm.

 

Danse was there in a moment to take it from her. He placed it on the table near the door, his back staying to her.

 

She’d spent enough time with Danse to recognize when he was schooling his features, when he was collecting himself.

 

“Danse-“

 

“-don’t.” His shoulders shifted as he drew in a deep breath before turning. “We don’t need to discuss it. What is there to say? Just, just tell me you are not hurt anywhere else.”

 

She shook her head. “He thought we’d slept together.”

 

“So he broke your arm? Damn it, Nora, he’s going to kill you if you keep going back.”

 

“He didn’t mean to dislocate my shoulder. He hauled me into the shower and I pulled away and I slipped.”

 

Danse rubbed his fingers against his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t make excuses for him. He did this to you. Stop giving him a pass as if he isn’t responsible. We have travelled together for a long time, been in the heat of battle, yelled at each other over countless disagreements, but have I ever harmed you? Ever allowed harm to come to you-“ He went silent before tearing his gaze away. “I suppose that is not entirely true. I allowed him to hurt you.”

 

She loved him.

 

She knew it then, couldn’t deny it. It was in the pain in his face, not the one Arthur faked when he wanted something, when he didn’t get what he thought he deserved. It wasn’t the selfish concern Arthur pretended to have. This was just Danse willing to do anything for her, even if it meant letting her go back to Arthur, even if it had meant dying.

 

Nora crossed the space between them, throwing her good arm around his shoulders to pull him down and into a kiss.

 

He tensed, not returning the kiss, not responding.

 

She could hear the arguments swirling through his head. It was too fast, she’d been through too much, there were too many problems between them.

 

She broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against his chest. “Please, Danse. I need you to love me. I need to feel like I’m worth something, and the only time I’ve felt that since waking up has been when I’m with you.”

 

#

 

Danse broke at her whispered plea against his chest. Nora had torn through so many things, and to hear that quiet begging, it tore at his heart.

 

He grasped her chin and lifted until she looked him in the eyes. “I told you, Nora. I’ve always loved you. Whether or not we ever do anything physical about that does not and will not ever change that I love you.”

 

“So why are you turning me down?” She pulled backward, and the room chilled at the loss of her body heat. “Is it because of Arthur? Because you saw what he did to me? Because that’s all you can think about now?”

 

He wanted to tell her that wasn’t it, but she wasn’t entirely wrong, and he refused to lie to her. Yes, what Arthur had done played in his head, almost daily. Hell, some nights it wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d toss and turn and the nightmare of that day would never leave.

 

Nora had been the person he wanted but would never deserve. He’d convinced himself that she would be better off without him, that he could never replace the husband or life she’d had, and in doing so he’d left her open for Arthur’s abuse.

 

And even if she didn’t see it, it was abuse.

 

Anger seared him from the inside as he thought about the man he’d looked up to so much. He’d have done anything for Arthur, for the Brotherhood, would never have believed the man capable of such atrocities if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes.

 

Danse took a deep breath before trying to explain, to give her the truth she deserved. “Yes, I think about it. Not because I think less of you, but because it makes me so angry. And it shames me, that you suffered for me, that you suffered and I didn’t see, didn’t stop it.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I should have seen it.”

 

“Neither of us can stop what happened before, so just be here with me, now.”

 

He released a shaky breath as all the reasons to say no swam around inside him. Still, when her fingers clutched his shirt and she pulled him backward, toward her bed, he followed.

 

He’d always follow.

 

She struggled with her top, so he stepped in, maneuvering the shirt off, around her sling. “Just take it off.”

 

“Don’t you need it?”

 

“I need you more.”

 

He pressed his lips together, the sign he didn’t agree with her, but he helped her take the sling off. “If you hurt, we will put it back on. Understood?”

 

She slid her arms around him, her bare chest pressing against his shirt. “Are you giving me orders?”

 

The flirting in her voice did nothing to wipe away the distaste of the question. It pulled back to Arthur.

 

He slid his hand behind her neck. “No. I’m never ordering you around, Nora. This goes how you want or it does not happen, not ever.”

 

Her eyes softened, like such a tiny kindness meant so much to her. And, damn, that hurt. She deserved so many things in her life, yet telling her she was in control was like offering her the moon.

 

He leaned in and took her lips in a deep kiss as he walked them the last few steps to the bed. When he moved over her, he made sure not to lie on her.

 

He wasn’t sure how things had happened with Arthur, but the idea of crowding her, of putting his weight on her, it seemed wrong. No one bounced back after treatment like that, and the last thing he wanted was to risk frightening her.

 

So he braced his weight on his knee and an arm, leaning down to continue the kiss.

 

Her hands were less reserved. She moved them inside his shirt, over his stomach, his chest. Her nails scraped down his sides until she could unbutton his pants.

 

He broke the kiss and opened his mouth to argue with her.

 

“Be quiet, Danse. I know what you’re going to say. You think this is too fast, you think I should wait, but I’m done wait. Take your pants off and fuck me, please.”

 

He leaned back on his knees. “I’m not going to fuck you, Nora.”

 

Her smile slid away. “Oh.”

 

Danse took a deep breath before he shrugged his pants off. “I’m not going to just fuck you. You’re worth more than that, Nora. If we do this, it will be making love.”

 

Her eyebrows drew together for a moment before she broke into a laugh. “Are you kidding me? That’s so cheesy, you fucking romantic.” As she laughed, she shimmied out of her own pants, though after a wince, Danse helped her.

 

He drug his hands up her legs. They went up her calves, over the outsides of her thighs. The woman had a body he’d spent months fantasizing about. Soft and perfect and the things dreams were made of.

 

Her thighs spread around him, fingers clutching his shirt to drag him over her.

 

Danse slid into her with ease, taking his time, going slow. A single wince would ruin this, would make him withdraw, rethink it.

 

Her fingers dug into his sides as he took her. She returned every kiss, ever caress, like she couldn’t get enough.

 

He understood that, felt the same. Nothing was enough, not when he’d waited so long.

 

Every time she tried to turn things aggressive, Danse only responded by moving slower, by gentling his touch.

 

The rhythm stayed slow and lazy until she her moans turned broken. They hitched in places, mixed with groans. The sort of thing a woman couldn’t hide, couldn’t fake.

 

“Do you want me to make you come?” The question come off his lips clumsy, but he had to ask. After Arthur had forced her to come in front of him, obtaining consent was vital. Having sex was one thing, but an orgasm was more. That was personal, vulnerable.

 

She slid her hands behind his neck, lacing them together. Finally, she looked him in eye. “Just keep doing this. If I get there, I get there, and if not, that’s okay, too.”

 

He nodded, dropping his head forward to focus on his hips. One of his hands gripped her hip as his pace increased. He still tried to keep it gentle, but it changed from the teasing thrusting he’d done to something more urgent.

 

Her teeth scraped over his collarbone before she pressed a kiss to the spot, her warm breath spilling over his chest.

 

When he came, he stopped for a moment, hips pushing forward in tiny jerks, her hands sliding over his chest like he was the one who needed reassurance.

 

He pulled out of her and sat up to find something to help her clean off.

 

Nora grabbed his arm and pulled his down beside her. “Don’t worry about it.” She curled around him like she couldn’t get close enough, like she was freezing and he was the only warmth.

 

He slid an arm beneath her so her head laid on his bicep. “Don’t go back to him, Nora. Please, stop letting him hurt you. I am terrified he’ll kill you, and one day you simply won’t return, and I won’t even know what happened.”

 

She said nothing for so long, he thought the conversation had dropped. Later, though he wasn’t sure how long, her soft voice broke the silence as if the conversation had never stopped. “What do I do if something happens to you? How do I survive that?”

 

“Then you keep moving forward. It’s all any of us can do.”

 

“Arthur said he loved me, and that love is war. How can I win again him?”

 

Danse turned his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Love isn’t war. It’s something Arthur could never understand because he’s too selfish to let anyone on his side. But even if he were right? My caps are on you, Nora, always.”

 

She said nothing else, and the quiet of the house lulled them to sleep.

 

The next morning, she surprised him, since she still slept beside him. Neither talked about Arthur, about the Brotherhood or the Prydwen. They just went about life like none of that existed.

 

A day turned into two, which became a week, and before either realized it, a month had passed. They’d head to local settlements, help where they could, but neither addressed the issue.

 

She’d wake with nightmares some nights, thrashing and whimpering. He didn’t ask what they were about, and she didn’t offer. She’d only press her face against his chest and breathe in the scent like it helped.

 

She headed off on her own from time to time, but he knew she didn’t go back to Arthur. It was in her smile which had grown over their time together, in the confidence that had slowly started to build inside her, like she remembered who she was.

 

And, for a while, Danse had started to think that perhaps they could just move on. They could walk away from the past, from the ugliness, and just start over.

 

But to a man like Arthur, for whom love was war, Danse knew he’d never surrender so easily.

 

They were only biding time until Arthur made a move.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

A month.

 

Nora had been gone for an entire month.

 

She’d left in the past for days, even weeks. Typically, she’d tell Arthur, first. She’d fill him in on where she was headed, on what she had planned. She'd spend the last night with him, in his arms, in his bed. She would also check in with Brotherhood soldiers as she went, who would then send word back to him.

 

He’d received no word, no information, nothing. It was as if she’d fallen off the face of the Earth.

 

At least, that seemed to be what she wanted Arthur to believe. The other sources, the ones she didn’t know about, they’d reported in.

 

It seemed her and Danse had settled into quite the happy little routine. They lived together, worked together. Every time he thought about that thing touching what was his, his temper slipped again.

 

She was his, and he wasn’t about to surrender her to the enemy.

 

All this was was a hissy fit from her. She was stomping her feet over what had happened in the shower. Nora did love her dramatics, loved to cling to her anger and her problems. Her shoulder had been an accident and she damned well knew it. It had happened because she was fighting him.

 

All of the bad things in her life happened because she fought against fate, against him. If she only gave in and relented, she'd see that he offered her a future, a good one. A hell of a lot better than anything the rest of the Commonwealth could give her.

 

He offered power, protection, children, a real home they could build together. What did that machine offer? 

 

Nothing.

 

“Sir, we’re ready.”

 

Arthur turned toward the soldier, nodding. “Thank you.”

 

The plan was a simple one. An outright assault on Sanctuary would bring the wrath of the minutemen down on the Brotherhood, and while that was not an insurmountable problem, it was a complication he’d rather avoid.

 

But, like it or not, he knew Nora. Put one of her settlements in danger and she would come running. Without the backup of the minutemen, it would be a simple task to pick her up. He couldn’t keep her prisoner as a Paladin, however, he had a plan for that as well.

 

The raiders he’d paid off to attack the settlement did their job well. They set fire to homes, shot civilians, and made a general mess of the area. He chose a settlement close enough Nora would come herself, and one close enough it wouldn’t take long.

 

Sure enough, by nightfall, his girl and her rifle appeared in the treeline. She took position, picking off raiders. He rarely was able to watch her work, to see her skill in action. He’d received word often enough about her competency with her rifle, but seeing it himself?

 

He could have picked no better partner.

 

She was perfect for him, and she would give him strong, healthy children to continue the Maxson line.

 

He allowed her to kill the raiders. They were tools, nothing more, and the world was better off without them. Once she’d dispatched them all, she crept forward.

 

She’d want to check the settlement, of course. She’d need to look for survivors, offer help, take the seriously wounded back.

 

When she came around the corner where he hid, he held the med-x in his hand. Getting her back to the Prydwen was the safest bet.

 

His arm slid around her throat, pulling her against him as he injected the chems into her arm. He pressed his lips to her ear. “I missed you.”

 

#

 

Nora woke with a headache. It took her only a moment to realize where she was, to remember what had happened.

 

The rumbled voice beside her said it all. “Welcome home, Nora.”

 

She opened her eyes against the light, moving to sit up. “This isn’t home.”

 

Arthur wasn’t in the bed like she’d expected. Instead, he sat in a chair beside the bed, shirt off but pants on, like he’d been watching her sleep. “Yes, it is. You would do well to remember that. Your home is by my side, not with that thing.”

 

She ran her hands over her body. Still dressed, and what bullshit did it say about her that she was surprised? How had her life gotten to the point where Arthur not having sex with her while she was unconscious was a shock?

 

“You dislocated my shoulder the last time we had this talk. You wanted to know if I’d slept with him. Well, guess what? I have. Over and over again.”

 

He didn’t move, the stillness in him reminding her of a predator before it strikes. “You will adjust.”

 

She got to her feet, still unsteady from the med-x he must have used to drug her. Her hand darted out to keep her upright, grasping the desk. “I’m leaving. You can’t keep me here, Arthur. I won’t do this with you.”

 

“You can’t leave. You’re mine, Nora, I thought I explained that to you already? This is where you belong, by my side, and you will not leave it again.”

 

Nora went to the door, yanking on the handle but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. “Open the door, Arthur.”

 

He stood and prowled over. “No.” He set his hand above her on the door, caging her in. “Get comfortable here, because you aren’t leaving this room.”

 

His lips touched her neck, beard scratching her skin. The touch that had soothed her before, the rough caresses that she’d thought she needed made her skin crawl.

 

All she could think about was Danse, about the way he touched her, like she was worth a damn, like she mattered.

 

Nora leaned her head forward, an act that looked a lot like surrender. At least, it did until she swung her head back into his face.

 

Without an ability to aim, she didn’t think she’d hit anything important. Her head glanced off, to the side, telling her she’d only nailed him in the cheek.

 

She didn’t take the break, though. Instead, she pressed her foot against the door and kicked backward, knocking them back. Arthur grasped the table to right himself, but Nora had nothing to hold. She fell, back hitting the floor, and Arthur was on her in a moment.

 

“Stop fighting me. Stop fighting this.”

 

Had Nora ever really fought before? No. She’d given in after a single no, after a push of his shoulders, but she’d never lashed out. She'd accepted every brutal treatment with some bullshit idea that she deserved it, that it was easier, that it was what she needed. 

 

She brought her hand up and scored her nails down his face, over the long healed scar that marred his cheek. “I’m not yours, Arthur, and I won’t pretend I am anymore. You can’t keep me here; the Brotherhood won’t allow it!”

 

He captured her wrists and slammed them to the floor. “They will allow it because I’ve already had the paperwork run. Like it or not, you’re now my wife. Not only that,” his gaze shifted to her stomach. “You’re carrying my child.”

 

“I am not.”

 

“You will be. We will try every damned night until you conceive. And as the pregnant wife of the last Maxson, keeping you under guard is not only acceptable but expected. Your rank has been revoked. You are no longer a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel. You have no options or freedom. You are Mrs. Maxson, and you are mine.” He shifted a leg between her thighs.

 

Nora started to laugh as he shifted her wrists above her, pinning them with a single hand, his other going to the button of her pants.

 

“Do you find this funny?”

 

“It is hilarious.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Because I had a tubal ligation after I had Shaun. I can’t have kids. Doesn’t matter how many times you try, what you do, you just married a woman who can’t give you your fucking heirs.” She laughed harder when he went still above her.

 

“You’ve known the entire time that you couldn’t conceive?”

 

“Yep. Every damned time you came inside me, I knew I couldn’t get pregnant. It was my own little win every. Single. Time.”

 

His lip curled up, something he no doubt intended to look frightening, but it only reminded Nora of a kid having a tantrum. “You think changes anything?”

 

“I don’t think it matters. I still screwed you for once.”

 

His eyes twitched, the way they always did when he created plans, when he surveyed options. “It changes nothing. You’re still mine, and I will simply impregnate someone else and when they have the child, you will raise it as ours. I’ll have my heirs who carry the Maxson blood, and I will have you. I always win, Nora.”

 

"I'll fight you every step of the way." 

 

He stood, releasing her. "Then good luck, because you will need it." 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Nora didn’t see Arthur again until the next day. He must have decided some time apart would cool her temper.

 

He wasn’t wrong. Being locked in his quarters on her own, forced to fill her time with the assortment of books, it stole some of her anger.

 

She hated being alone, hated being trapped. It took her back to being in the vault.

 

Did he know that? Was it all part of his plan? Right then, after over twenty-four hours alone, she’d like nothing more than to see any face, even his face.

 

As if she’d spawned him just by thinking about him, the door opened and he entered, plates of food balanced on his arm. He walked in slowly, eyes careful as if he expected her to attack him on sight. “I brought dinner.”

 

“I can see that.”

 

He closed the door with his foot, then set the plates on the table. “I was hoping we could sit and eat.”

 

“Like a real couple?”

 

“That would be nice, but I’d settle for simply doing it like adults.”

 

The words had her snap her mouth shut. She wanted to refuse, but Danse’s voice in her ear had her moving forward. He’d tell her that she needed to eat, that she needed her strength if she was going to escape.

 

Pride meant nothing if you couldn’t escape.

 

So, Nora took a seat in the chair Arthur pulled out for her.

 

“I’m sorry I was away for so long,” he said, voice low before he took his own seat. “I thought we could both use the time to settle into these new roles. Believe it or not, this is new to me as well. I’ve never been a husband before.”

 

She bit her tongue before she snapped at him, before she screamed at him that he still wasn’t a husband. She’d had a husband, one she’d loved, and Arthur would never replace him, never ruin that thought for her.

 

“I spoke to Cade. He explained to me that I need to alter my behavior. I can’t expect you to accept your situation all at once. That isn’t fair, nor is it realistic. This will take time.”

 

Nora huffed, a soft breath of air to signal her disbelief.

 

“I’m trying, Nora, but you have to give me time, and you have to realize I will make mistakes.”

 

“There it is. The same commanding bullshit. I don’t have to do anything for you, Arthur. Not one damned thing.”

 

His fingers tapped on the table, each click of his nail a show of his annoyance. Still, he didn’t rise to the insult. “You will accept your place in time. I am not so terrible, and we could be happy. You may not have a rank anymore, but that doesn’t mean you won’t have privileges by being Mrs. Maxson. You’ll have the best of anything, want for nothing. You’ll be protected, cared for, honored. The entire Brotherhood would put themselves between you and any threat.”

 

“Sounds great if it wasn’t for you.”

 

“I can be what you need. Can’t you see it? You standing on that Command Deck by my side? Our child in your arms? I can promise you, our children would be safe no matter what. I could protect them.”

 

“They wouldn’t be mine.”

 

“They might as well be. You’ll raise them, love them, protect them. They’ll call you Mom, won’t know anything about their biological mother. No one will know but us, so it won’t matter. I know you, Nora, and you would never be able to not love a child you raised.”

 

And of course, he was right. If she was trapped there until then, if she was handed a child, there was no way she wouldn’t bond with it.

 

He was counting on that.

 

Always scheming.

 

“I have a surprise for you tomorrow.”

 

Nora dropped her gaze to her food. “I don’t want anything you have to give me. You can’t buy my affection.”

 

“Normally a gift is met with a thank you.”

 

“We both know you aren’t getting that from me.”

 

Silence.

 

A sigh. “We’ll see tomorrow, I guess.”

 

The rest of the meal went by with more silence, with unsaid curses and noiseless screaming. The click of forks against the metal plates punctuated the tension.

 

Arthur gathered the plates and handed them to someone outside the door.

 

Nora took the time to move to the bathroom, to change into the pajama’s he’d supplied her. Of course, he’d supplied her things that fit his mindset. Nice nightgowns cut low in the front and short enough to almost show the curve of her ass.

 

Still, better than being naked.

 

When she came out of the bathroom, he was already in the bed, on the far side against the wall. It left space for her as if it was expected.

 

But he did expect it.

 

Too tired to fight, she crossed the room, shoulders low as she crawling into the bed beside him.

 

His hands went to her shoulder and she flinched.

 

He hushed her with a low sound, hand rubbing at her shoulder, over her back. “Relax.”

 

She swallowed her curse.

 

His lips touched the nape of her neck, warm breath against her skin.

 

“Don’t,” she whispered, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. It never did any good.

 

He pulled away, though. His hands left her. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

 

She turned toward him and shoved his chest. “No! Don’t you get it? I don’t want you.”

 

Anger flashed across his face, wiped away just as fast. He rolled over her, just like she knew he would. Now he would grow tired of playing nice and just take what he wanted.

 

Instead, he moved off her in the same movement. “Very well. I can learn; I can change. You may sleep by yourself tonight, as well.”

 

Nora’s eyebrows drew together as he dressed, unable to believe he was leaving. She’d expected violence, anger. This? What was this?

 

Arthur crouched down beside the bed before he left. He didn’t touch her, but also didn’t move until she met his gaze. “I want this to work, Nora. Trust that I can be what you need.” He didn’t wait for a response before he left.

 

Leaving Nora alone and confused.

 

#

 

Arthur shifted on the bed he’d had brought into the machines old quarters. He’d yet to reassign them since they belonged to Nora. Yes, she’d be sleeping in his quarters, but he’d left these open in case they were needed.

 

And they were needed, as it turned out.

 

He’d spent two nights sleeping there instead of in his own quarters with his wife.

 

Wife.

 

The name had him smiling. He’d have preferred to marry her the right way, to watch her walk toward him, dressed in white like he’d heard they used to do. He’d be in his Elder gear, of course, and she’d smile as she walked toward him.

 

Some things could not be changed, however. Perhaps someday they could still do that when things were more stable.

 

Leaving her had not been an easy choice. He was still hard, still wanted her. The phantom sensation of her warmth, of her body, they teased him. The way her thighs pressed against him, her nails in his skin, her moans.

 

He dropped a hand down, beneath the blanket to take himself in hand. He stroked his cock in slow, lazy motions.

 

At his core, he was a tactician. He’d learned early with the Brotherhood that doing things simply because you’d always done them was a poor reason that led to failure. The way he and Nora had acted before had given him nothing but grief. It had landed them where they were.

 

It meant the battle needed a new plan. A new course of attack. When frontal assaults fail to gain footing, you had to try another direction.

 

It meant when she said no, even though he knew she wanted him, he’d back off.

 

It would break down her defenses.

 

He knew damned well how she hated being alone. She’d admitted it one night after too much alcohol. She’d admitted that her time in the vault had made her terrified of being trapped, of being alone.

 

So he’d left her alone in the room, let her stew in her own head. When she’d behaved badly, he’d done as she requested while knowing damned well she’d suffer for it.

 

It would teach her she needed him. The Prydwen could be a lonely place without him. He'd ensure it was.

 

And his gift tomorrow? It would help buy the affection she said wasn’t for sale.

 

Everything could be bought or stolen, and he was above neither when it came to her.

 

His hand sped, low groans echoing off the bare walls. He pictured his Nora, his wife, flushed and begging him. She’d be on her knees, a smile on those lips before she licked his cock. Then she’d take it between her lips like a good wife.

 

He’d grip her hair, forcing her to take more, and she’d respond exactly like she should by giving in.

 

He knew best, after all.

 

He squeezed the head of his cock, trying to mimic the feeling of her throat when she gagged around him, and while the actual touch wasn’t close, the memory got him the rest of the way.

 

He came, her name on his lips. His chest rose and fell in quick motions, his come on his hand, on the blanket.

 

Brilliant.

 

Arthur sighed and used the blanket to wipe himself off, then tossed it to the ground.

 

Any war took time to win.

 

#

 

Nora hesitated at the command deck, Arthur beside her. He’d left her alone all night and for the entire next day. The sun had already gone down, meaning it was evening at least.

 

He wanted to give her her ‘present.’ She was sure it was something she wouldn’t want, some manipulative attempt to make this seem real. A fucking crib for the child he was determined to have? Maybe whatever woman he’d pay to carry the kid?

 

“Relax,” he whispered to her.

 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

 

“Fine. Continue to breathe fast and pass out. If you insist on being foolish, you can suffer the consequences.”

 

Nora loathed admitting he was right, but he was. She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it.

 

Soldier’s moved around like she didn’t exist. They didn’t see her at all. Sure, they nodded at her, opened doors for her, but she’d become just an arm of Arthur. She was property.

 

Important property, but property none-the-less.

 

Screaming and begging for help would mean nothing.

 

Nora passed the doorway of the Command Deck to find something she hadn’t expected to find.

 

Piper stood in the middle of the room, normal scowl on her lips that said she was less than impressed with the events.

 

Her gaze landed on Nora, and her scowl deepened. Leave it to Pipes to get pissed on her behalf.

 

They rushed for each other at the same time.

 

Arthur moved between them before they could embrace. “This is a trial, Ms. Wright. Let’s not push it. I would appreciate you keeping distance between yourself and my wife.”

 

Piper released a snort. “Wife, huh? I’ll make sure to get a gift for when she becomes a widow.” Her face softened when she shifted her gaze to Nora. “Hey there, Blue. You okay?”

 

Nora darted her gaze up to the ceiling, trying to force the tears that pooled in her to go away. Danse was one thing, and while it might be love, it was also new and complicated.

 

Piper was her friend, someone she’d grown close to over her months in the Commonwealth. Hell, Piper was one of her first friends.

 

“Yeah.” The word stuck in her throat.

 

Arthur’s eyebrow cocked up and Piper offered a soft smile.

 

At least until Piper looked at Arthur again. “Well, boy wonder, do you think we could at least sit? I did suffer through a vertibird ride with Rhys, and if that doesn’t earn me the chance to sit, nothing does. Besides, what use is this little get together if I can’t even talk to her?”

 

Arthur nodded, gesturing the to the couches. “No touching.” He pulled a chair up to sit in front of them.

 

Piper took her seat, and Nora took the one beside her.

 

“How is everyone?”

 

Piper’s foot tapped against the ground, the same nervous energy she always had when thinking. “Good. D’s been teaching Mac a few things. You know how the two love to compete. Heard they set up their place like the outside of the switchboard.”

 

Nora’s eyebrows inched together. Piper was telling her something. She’d been there with Deacon when they’d cleared the switchboard. The minefield outside. Was she trying to say they planned to set up a minefield? No, that wouldn’t help.

 

Maybe it was too literal. Explosives?

 

“Good. I had a package. How is it?”

 

Piper tilted her lips into a half-smile. “Package is fine. Been looking after it for you.”

 

So Danse was okay. Piper would know the Railroad code. It let Nora breathe. Part of her had been terrified to think Arthur might have done something to Danse in retaliation. He hadn’t before because he’d been trying to keep Nora, but now? Now that he had Nora, he had no reason to leave Danse alone.

 

Piper leaned in closer, lowering her voice despite the fact she was sure Arthur could hear them. “How are you really, Blue? Are you hurt?”

 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

 

“I’m fine,” Nora said, not sure if it was a lie or not. “I just want to go home.”

 

“You are home,” Arthur snaps, his cheerful mood gone.

 

“A floating metal prison is not a home,” Piper snaps back with the same level of annoyance. Going toe to toe with the reporter was not a good idea.

 

Piper was tenacious, and Arthur was out of his league.

 

Piper locked eyes with Nora, the same look she liked to give before bullshitting her way past guards, like the day she’d talked her way into Diamond City. She was going off script and wanted Nora to play along.

 

“I missed you, Blue, so much.” Piper threw herself across the couch, arm wrapping around Nora’s shoulders, her lips pressing against Nora’s. Piper kissed her hard, tongue tracing her lips as their hips pushed against each other.

 

Piper’s fingers pressed against the waistband of her pants.

 

What the hell?

 

Something small pressed into the front of her underwear. A piece of paper?

 

Oh, that was Piper’s game.

 

Nora kissed her back, making a show of sliding a hand behind Piper’s neck and wrapping a leg around her hip.

 

Arthur yanked them apart, pulling Nora away. While his hands were rough, it wasn’t the reaction he’d have had if Piper had been a male. If anything, he almost looked amused. “That’s quite enough. I suppose I understand now why you are so protective over Nora,” he said to Piper. “I think your visit is over.”

 

A soldier came over and grasped Piper’s arm to escort her out.

 

“Just hang in there, Blue. You’re not alone, not ever. You haven’t been and you aren’t now. If you ever feel alone, remember how we’d hide Hancock’s chems, huh?” Piper shouted the words as the soldier drug her out the door, toward the Vertibirds.

 

Arthur gestured back toward the room, and Nora went in silence as she considered Piper’s words.

 

“I believe thank you is the correct response when you I give you a gift.”

 

“Thank you,” Nora said while she paid little attention.

 

Arthur shut the door behind them, closing them into the room. “So, you and the reporter? I wasn’t aware you were interested in women.”

 

“You aren’t aware of a lot of things, Arthur. You never asked.”

 

“Fair enough. That stops now, however. I will not have my wife with anyone else, male or female. As cute as that might be, it is over. If I can’t trust you to behave appropriately, I will not allow her to visit. Behave yourself, however, and we can give you more freedom and more time with your friends. At least, some of them.”

 

“And you think, what? We’re going to have dinner parties up here where my friends show up?”

 

He set a hand on her lower back and pulled her against him. “I’d like that, yes.”

 

“Well don’t get your hopes us.”

 

His hand spread out on her chest, between her breasts. He drug it down, over her breastbone, over her stomach, to the edge of her pants.

 

Nora tried to pull away, but he held her tight.

 

He dipped that hand into her pants and underwear, fingers grasping the paper Piper had left. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” He clicked his tongue as he stepped away and unfolded the paper. He read the words out loud. “Dear Blue, I know I can’t say what I want to in front of that asshole, but know that I love you, and I miss you, and I’m waiting for you. We’ll figure something out, just hang in there.” He folded it back up and stuck in his pocket. “Very sweet, Nora, but she’s wrong. You won’t be getting out of here. Now, I’m going to go get us dinner, and we’ll eat a meal together.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek before leaving her.

 

Piper’s note didn’t make any sense.

 

Unless. . . of course. Piper knew the note would get taken. She’d written it for Arthur to find, to cover her tracks. If he found the easy trick, he’d miss the hidden one.

 

If that wasn’t Deacon 101, she didn’t know what was.

 

What had Piper said? _Remember where we hid Hancock’s chems._

 

The night they’d decided to fuck with Hancock, they’d taken his mentats and hidden them from him. He’d been too high to look properly and had had to sober up first. She and Piper had stuck them. . .

 

Nora fell to her knees beside the bed, reaching beneath it. Things secured there. She laid on the ground, scooting under it.

 

A rifle. A pistol. A set of six explosives. A knife. A note.

 

 

_Charmer,_

 

_Greetings from the Land of the Free. Missed you at our local mixer. Tom drugged the punch bowl, Glory had sex with PAM, Carrington had sex with no one because even with the drugged punch, no one was willing. These explosives can be rigged to the top of the Prydwen and are enough to bring down the whole thing. I suggest you have a way off before you try that, because the flaming crashing thing is less fun than it sounds. The rest are toys for you. If you aren’t feeling in a do-it-yourself mood, you’ll have to wait for a rescue. I’m thinking next spring. I look best in the spring._

 

_Love,_

_Death Bunny #1_

 

_p.s. Tin Can misses you. He’s worse than Dogmeat. We take turns walking him and letting him sleep at the foot of our beds._

_p.s.s. You and Piper need to show me your lesbian show when you come back._

_p.s.s.s. Make sure you come back._

 

 

Nora left the blade but took the other items and hid them better. If anyone checked the room closely, they’d find them. Instead, she stuck them behind the small space heater near the shower. The knife she left, because she wanted a weapon at hand where she might need one most.

 

And the bed seemed the place she would most need one.

 

The note she kept with the hidden items, though what she wanted to do was clutch it to her chest. She wasn’t alone. She had friends and options and now weapons. Danse was alive, and he missed her. Deacon was sneaking aboard the Prydwen like an idiot because he was an idiot. They could deal with this.

 

The door opened as Arthur entered.

 

She could win this.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Another three days alone had Nora ready to climb the walls. She’d turned him down after dinner, again. He accepted it and said he would leave her alone until she requested his presence, until she wanted him.

 

She’d sworn that would never happen, but by the third night?

 

She was ready to beg.

 

Food was delivered, three meals a day, by soldiers she didn’t recognize. They’d knock, give the food, but not say a word, not indulge in the smallest amount of company.

 

Nora had paced, she’d run in place, she’d read and touched everything in the room.

 

She wanted to break down.

 

She’d rather have pain than loneliness. Solitude allowed her mind to wander to all the mistakes she’d made. She thought back to the first time she’d fucked Arthur, against the wall in the Command deck after he’d given his stupid speech.

 

Neither had bothered removing much clothing, only enough to give access to the needed areas. His hands had gripped her, strength and arrogance and youth. She’d lost herself in it, in the snap of his hips and the burn as he stretched her too fast.

 

What if she’d said no that first time? What if she’d turned around and walked out when he’d yanked her against him for a kiss? He might have respected that no had it come from the start.

 

Would she have made a life with Danse? Would she have been able to save Danse’s life in that bunker?

 

Her hands slid into her hair, gripping as she went over every step she’d made since waking up, every fuck up, every bad choice.

 

She wanted to wrap herself around Danse. She wanted to hear his voice, solid and sure and sweet, whispered into her ear. She needed his snores while he slept beside her, the way his hand would reach for her, pulling her closer.

 

Her thoughts moved so fast, she missed it when Arthur came in.

 

When his fingers touched her chin to lift her face, that she noticed.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“You left me alone for three days.”

 

“You wanted me gone. All you had to do was ask for me and I’d have returned. I was giving you what you wanted.”

 

She leaned into his touch, unable to help it. She didn’t care that he was an asshole, that he was keeping her trapped, that he’d done all the terrible things. She closed her eyes and pretended he was Danse.

 

He moved his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her forward. His lips went against hers, sure, nothing like Danse’s. Hell, even after their weeks together, Danse still touched her like she was fragile, like she might shatter if he went too fast.

 

Arthur was nothing like that.

 

She returned his kiss, her hands curling in the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer. She drank in his warmth, his touch.

 

He broke the kiss and tilted her head to press his lips against her throat. His breath spilled over her as he spoke. “I missed this, Nora. I missed you. I told you we could fix this.”

 

She shut her eyes trying to drown out his voice and his sight.

 

He pushed her backward until she laid flat. She let him, only pulling him down with her, needing his weight above her. Maybe it could warm the part of her broken, the part that felt like ice. Not that he could, only Danse had managed to make her not feel broken, but maybe she could pretend.

 

Three days alone had fucked with her head, had driven her back to the vault, to the isolation and the fear and the loneliness.

 

She drowned that with the taste of Arthur, with his hands as he pushed the straps to her nightgown off.

 

He didn’t yank at her. Had he learned something or was this more of his game?

 

Did she care?

 

His hands grasped her breasts, cupping them, fingers closing around her nipples. His beard scratched her skin as his lips captured a nipple.

 

She arched her back to offer him more, hands pulling at the buckles of his jumpsuit. She’d gotten good at working them from her time with Arthur. She didn’t bother to undo it all, only pulling at the pieces she needed to be gone.

 

He released his nipple with a loud pop. “I wanted to come in here every night, but I wanted to wait for you to want me. I needed to wait for you to want me.”

 

She twisted her face away from him, trying to drown him out.

 

His fingers grasped the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up to her waist. Her thighs parted around him as he finished unfastening his suit.

 

“Look at me.”

 

She shook her head.

 

He set a hand on her cheek, his body pressing tighter against her. “Look at me, Nora. I need to see your eyes, need to know you’re thinking about me.”

 

“I’m letting you fuck me. I’m not fighting you. What more do you want from me?”

 

His lips brushed hers. “Everything. I want everything from you. Now open your eyes.”

 

#

 

Arthur kept his voice gentle even when he wanted to scream. He wanted to grip her jaw and force her eyes open.

 

How dare she keep anything from him.

 

She was his wife and she refused to even look at him while he had sex with her?

 

But that wasn’t the plan. The plan was to tempt her, to show her he could be whatever foolish romantic idea she had in her head.

 

So instead, he kissed her as he slid into her.

 

Tight like always, and perfect.

 

He wrapped her leg around him, savoring the way her hips lifted against him to take him deeper, the way she kissed him back.

 

So, her eyes were closed. That was fine. They’d get there. Remember the way any war is won, by the battle. By the individual wins, by the territory won. Her beneath him was territory that was his, now.

 

Each concession, each thing she gave him was another win for him. Another step toward the war being his.

 

He kept his hips slow, more careful. She could take more, one of the things he loved about her, but there’d be time for that later.

 

“I love you. You know that, right?”

 

“Stop talking,” she whispered.

 

“You don’t want to hear my voice? Don’t want to know the truth? It won’t matter, Nora. You love me, too.” He kissed her throat, sucking hard on one spot until she whined and writhed beneath him.

 

Sure, he’d have rather taken her in the bed, like a real married couple, but as long as he got her it was enough. It had to be.

 

She twisted beneath him as he took her, not fighting him. Hell, it felt like those first times, before Danse had fucked it up.

 

He’d missed her being willing, missed her clinging to him like this. He’d needed this, needed her to submit beneath him.

 

She cried out when he went deeper, the sound like damned music to him. He wanted to ask her if Danse made her make those sounds, to taunt her that a machine could never feel like this.

 

But if he said that, she’d shut down, she’d pull away.

 

He was too selfish to allow that.

 

He buried his face against her throat as his hips snapped forward, lost in her heat. She made him feel warm, like the heat in her filled him, like he was real in those moments.

 

Her lips moved, whispers falling from them. He couldn’t tell what she said, though. He titled his head to hear her, ear going closer to her mouth.

 

_Danse_

 

She was whispering that thing's name.

 

He pulled out of her, fingers digging into her chin. “You’re really saying his name? Everything I’ve done for you and you’re saying his name?”

 

She opened her eyes finally, and there it was. The fight. The fire. He loved when she submitted, but he also loved when he had to force her to. “It doesn’t matter what you do, or what I do, I’ll always be thinking of him. You can keep me here forever, and I could never see him again, but every time you touch me, I’ll think of him.”

 

The words dug at his pride, at his ego. He was Elder Maxson, and she was taunting him with some lousy machine? A paladin? As if he wasn’t as good? As if Arthur couldn’t compete?

 

He stood, hauling her up by an arm. “You will forget all about him.” He shoved her toward the bed.

 

She stumbled, falling over the side of the bed. She bent forward, knees on the ground, nightgown hiked up high enough to show off her ass.

 

She knew she loved him when he was inside her. She couldn’t deny it then, wouldn’t let her deny it.

 

He moved behind her, hand going to her hair to hold her still. He leaned in to talk into her ear. “We’ll do this until you can’t even remember his name.”

 

She twisted, the move so unexpected he couldn’t counter.

 

Pain seared down his unscarred cheek. He reacted on instinct, wrestling the weapon from her hand. A knife? Where the hell had she gotten a knife.

 

He put the blade to her throat. “You attack me? After everything, you attack me?”

 

She leaned up so the blade pressed against her throat, so the skin above and below it bulged. “Danse is out there, and it’s only a matter of time before I get back to him.”

 

“Is that so?” He moved off her, sliding the knife into his belt. “Perhaps a few more days alone will convince you otherwise.”

 

He turned, leaving her alone. He had things to attend to.

 

#

 

He wasn’t lying. It was two days later when Arthur returned, when he walked into the room with the same attitude he always had. He had a new scar over his other cheek, a scar Nora had put there. He must have used a stimpack to speed healing, but it wouldn't stop the scar. Nope, Nora left him that present for him. He'd wear it forever because of her. 

 

Nora was on her feet, glad to be dressed in real clothing this time. 

 

“Ah, my dear.” His lips were pulled wide, too wide. He’d won, or at least he thought he had.

 

“What did you do?”

 

He wrapped his fingers around her arm and pulled her from the room. Her feet were bare and the cold of the Prydwen floor soaked into her.

 

“I have a gift for you. You see, I realized I never gave you a wedding present. We didn’t have a wedding, but I still should have given you something, as my new wife.” He hauled her into a vertibird.

 

“I don’t want a gift.”

 

“But I worked so hard on it for you. Think of it as a new start for us.”

 

Dread crept into Nora as the vertibird took off. Arthur would lean forward to speak with the pilot, but he said nothing else to Nora.

 

She edged toward the door, peering out and over the commonwealth as they passed it. She could step out. It would be so easy to jump. They were high enough up that there would be no chance to survive a fall like that.

 

It would be over with one little step.

 

Arthur’s arm wrapped around her midsection, pulling her back against his body. “I wouldn’t let you go, wouldn’t let you fall. You can’t escape me, Nora, not even like that.” His other hand was up, grasping the handle above them. Even if she tried to take them both out, he could easily hold them there.

 

That’s when the scenery caught her attention.

 

She wasn’t just anywhere. They passed Concord below them, the Museum of Freedom, the road she’d taken to save Preston.

 

They were headed toward Sanctuary.

 

Arthur spoke into her ear. “You know where we’re going, don’t you?”

 

“What did you do?” The question came out quiet. Could he even hear it?

 

“Futures have to be built. You told me that you’ll always know Danse is there, waiting for you. So, I took care of the problem.”

 

The smoke on the horizon said it even if he didn’t need to. The closer they got, the more she saw. They didn’t fly right over the settlement, but the charred houses, the crops in flames, the bullet holes from vertibird miniguns.

 

“You don’t have to worry, now. Danse isn’t out there waiting for you. Your settlement isn’t out there waiting. All you have is me.”

 

Her knees gave out at the sight. Danse was gone. Everything was gone.

 

Arthur held her up with his grip on her waist, soft sounds in her ear as if soothing her. “It’s okay, Nora. We needed this, to start fresh. It’s okay.”

 

But it wasn’t. She’d told Danse that if she lost him, she didn’t know what would survive. That it would break her.

 

Now? Now she was broken.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Days passed. Nora lost count of how many. She didn’t really care to try and keep count.

 

Arthur came and went as he pleased. She’d stopped telling him no, stopped talking altogether. She just couldn’t find the energy, find the reason.

 

The only thing that mattered was revenge. She would burn Arthur’s ship to the ground, with him on it. She could shoot him, of course. She still had the two guns stashed in the room. He’d had it searched after the knife, but Deacon had taught her to hide things well. That wasn’t enough, though. She wanted to take everything he had with him.

 

Arthur’s breath blew over the back of her neck.

 

She didn’t have nightmares, didn’t wake up crying. The sight of the smoke reaching for the sky, of everything she'd built smoldering, it didn’t make her cry. She was beyond that. It only drove her forward. Arthur took from her what she loved, she’d take the same from him.

 

And then she’d ride the damned ship to the ground to watch him burn and she’d burn right beside him.

 

Perfect.

 

His lips pressed against her shoulder, teeth scraping over her skin. “You don’t kiss me anymore,” he whispered.

 

She didn’t close her eyes anymore. She didn’t want for a moment to forget who it was, couldn’t pretend it was Danse. It wasn’t him; he was gone. Stolen.

 

Did anyone even bury him? Did they bury Preston? Mama Murphy? Someone should take Jun and Marcy’s bodies to Quincy, to bury them beside their son.

 

Someone, but not Nora. She had other things to do.

 

Arthur’s hand gripped her side to tilt her hips for a better angle.

 

Let him. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

 

Nothing but the explosives. 

 

Arthur shuddered and groaned against her skin as he came inside her.

 

She just needed him to give her some freedom. Play the game until she could kill them all.

 

#

 

Nora ate dinner. She didn’t eat much anymore, only enough to keep some of her strength.

 

“You need to eat more.” Arthur leaned across the table and pushed the plate toward her, then tapped it with his fork. “You’re going to lose weight if you don’t.”

 

She obeyed, shoveling forkfuls into her mouth. Chew, swallow, repeat. Lost in the motion. Whatever he said.

 

“I never thought this is all it would take to break you. I don’t even know if I wanted to break you. While dealing with you has been more pleasant, I miss your fight, your fire.”

 

She said nothing, just ate.

 

“Speak to me,” he said.

 

“What do you want me to say?” Her voice cracked. She hadn’t spoken in. . . two days? Three?

 

“Tell me you love me.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I like to hear that. It doesn’t matter if you believe it, I know it’s true. Tell me you’ll never leave me.”

 

Nora lifted her gaze to his that time, really looked at him. “I’m never going to leave you.”

 

Arthur pulled back from whatever he saw in her eyes, like he’d caught something peeking out from them he’d never seen before. As quickly as it happened, he shook his head, rebuilt his courage, acted as if he’d never retreated.

 

And Nora dropped her gaze again, no matter how true her words.

 

Neither of them were ever leaving.

 

#

 

Another week of good behavior gave her her chance. He stopped watching her every moment, gave her freedom to roam the ship. She set the explosives, placed the timers. She wanted them all to burn. They’d taken everything from her and now she wanted to kill them all.

 

Until Danse’s face came to her. It haunted her now and then, his frown. The way he’d look at her so she knew he didn’t approve. And he wouldn’t have approved. Danse loved the Brotherhood, even after Arthur, even after they cast him out. He’d never want her to kill them all.

 

And he deserved more than to have her forget everything he’d taught her.

 

So Nora altered her plan. Call it one last present to Danse, one last thing for him after she’d destroyed him.

 

She sat in the room, at the desk, waiting, rifle in her lap. She’d stolen her vault suit from where Arthur had hidden it, put it on, like a promise to herself. She came into this world wearing it and she’d leave wearing it.

 

Arthur came in right on time. He didn’t lock the door anymore, didn’t think she had anymore fight in her.

 

He was wrong.

 

The door clicked closed before he turned to find her, rifle pointed at him. “What is this, Nora?”

 

She turned to hit the button on the computer, the one she’d been waiting to push.

 

The lights flickered to red and an automated voice came over the speakers. “Immediate Evacuation,” It said, over and over.

 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he came further into the room. “Are you planning on killing me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You don’t have it in you. You can’t pull that trigger. If you could, you would have done it a long time before now.”

 

Nora didn’t smile, couldn’t find it in her to smile. “Danse asked me once why I stayed with you. I told him it was because I could never love you. I said that after I lost my husband, my real husband, Nate, it twisted me. I turned into something so close to the edge. If I lost anyone else I loved, I’d break.”

 

The movement of soldiers outside the door signaled they were evacuating.

 

A knock, then Kells’ voice. “Elder? We need to evacuate.”

 

Nora lifted the rifle in warning.

 

Arthur called back through. “I’m getting my wife ready. Leave a vertibird for me and I’ll evacuate. I want everyone else gone.” He wasn’t about to admit to being outsmarted by Nora, his pride still more important than anything else.

 

Fool.

 

“Yes, sir. Ad Victoriam.”

 

Arthur waved at Nora to continue like they were having a quiet conversation instead of. . . this.

 

“You took Danse from me. You finished breaking me. I don’t have a thing left to lose, a thing to care about. You stole it all from me. Before that I was willing to just walk away. I was willing to let you finish out your life not because I wanted you to, but because he did.”

 

“So now, what? You’ll shoot me and escape? Do you ever think you’ll be able to stop running if you kill the last Maxson? Do you think the Brotherhood would ever let you get away?”

 

“Nope. Once the ship is clear, we’re going to go out of this room and we’ll stay here until your precious ship crashes to the ground. See, I’ve planted explosives and in about ten minutes, they’ll bring this whole ship down with us on it. You and me, just like you always wanted.”

 

“This won’t work, Nora. I’ll forgive you, though. I always do. Funny that you think so poorly of me, but I keep forgiving you for everything you do. You betray me with that thing, you fight me, you cut my face, you threaten to kill me, but every single time I forgive you. If that isn’t love, what is?”

 

The silence through the door told Nora the evacuation had finished. She nodded toward the door, and Arthur went.

 

He continued to talk as they walked through the empty hallways. “That’s been the real problem, you know that? You don’t understand love. You think it’s all roses and rainbows. You forget that it’s pain, too. That sometimes it isn’t comfortable, but you can’t just throw it away.”

 

“And what do you know? You’re a spoiled brat who saw something he wanted, like always. You wanted the Commonwealth. You wanted the Elder title. You wanted me. You’re nothing but a child who tries to take everyone else’s toys.”

 

They stopped in the workshop, surrounded by power armor. Arthur turned to face her. “There’s still time, Nora. We can go to the vertibird. We’ll say the evacuation was a malfunction. We can start over and do this right. I can keep you safe.”

 

Nora threw her gun to the upper level, the clatter of it against the walkway loud in the silent ship. It was strange for the Prydwen to be so empty, so quiet. Even in the late hours, when most of the Brotherhood slept, the sounds of metal shoes never stopped. She didn’t need the gun. Even if Arthur ran now, he’d never make it to a vertibird in time. As soon as the explosives went off, as soon as the Prydwen started to fall, a vertibird would never manage to clear it.

 

“I don’t need you to keep me safe; I never needed that. I’d have been happy with you just not trying to destroy me. It doesn’t matter anymore, though. We’re done. We tore each other apart until there wasn’t anything worth saving left. Don’t you get that? There is nothing left!”

 

Arthur crossed the small space, sliding his hands into her hair, turning her face up toward his. “There’s plenty here.”

 

Her pipboy beeped. “Time’s up,” Nora whispered as the explosions above them went off, one after another.

 

The ship shuddered. It wouldn’t plummet right away, that would take time. She’d heard Tinker Tom talk about it before, though most she’d chalked up to his drug-addled mind.

 

Arthur released her hair, his gaze darting around. His thinking face. He was judging the distance to the front of the ship, to the back. He was calculating how much time it would take to hit the ground, how far away they could jump into the water from without breaking their legs. Every plan, ever option, it ran across his eyes. He was a selfish, arrogant asshole, but he could plan.

 

“Power armor.” He pushed her toward a suit. “Get in. In a suit of power armor, the fall might not kill either of us.”

 

Nora shoved his hands off. “No. It’s over. It’s done. I’m done.”

 

“You don’t tell me no.”

 

Nora laughed and took a step backward, hand gripping the frame. “No, no, no, no!” Nora said the word over and over, moving into a singing voice. Finally, all the times she wanted to tell him no, she finally could.

 

The ship angled down, the front shifting toward the ground. Nora grabbed the workbench to keep from sliding down the walkway.

 

Arthur grabbed her arm and hauled her up until she grasped the power armor frame. “Get your ass in it, Nora. We’ll discuss it later, once we’re both on the ground.”

 

“Get into your own power armor if you want to run. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

His hand clutched the chain of the power armor frame, and his other wrapped around her throat. “I told you before, you can’t escape me, can’t escape this. You’re mine, forever.” He tightened his hand until she couldn’t breathe, his strength enough to pin her against the frame.

 

She didn’t even struggle. He wasn’t escaping, so nothing else mattered.

 

Metal creaked as unanchored items slid past them, the angle on the ship increasing.

 

Nora’s hands grasped the frame, but she didn’t need to.

 

Arthur held her in place with his grip on her throat. “We could have been more, Nora. We could have been so much more. All you had to do was see it, and instead, we’re here. You did this, not me.”

 

Something slammed into the back of the frame, the metal groaning as the bolts gave way.

 

Arthur’s eyes went wide, his grip loosening as the frame gave way. It slid across the floor, and Arthur had a moment to decide what to do.

 

Would he release her and try to grab something to stop his fall? Would he let her go to save himself?

 

No, not Arthur. He wasn’t letting her go for anything. His hand moved to from her throat to her arm as he tried to shield them in the frame. He kept her against his chest, caging her in. None of it mattered. When the ship hit the ground, it’d be over. He couldn't save either of them from it.

 

He whispered into her ear like he’d just realized this was the end. “I wish we could have done this right.”

 

Just as he finished speaking, the frame struck the stairway, knocking Arthur free. The distance to the front of the Prydwen was far, and the ship was angled almost fully down. It put him into a freefall, Nora’s hands on the frame, her feet against the stairway to keep her set.

 

He didn’t scream. She wasn’t sure if she was happy about that or not. The sound of his voice in her ear just before he’d fallen, it sounded a hell of a lot like a man who’d broken, one who’d lost everything.

 

She closed her eyes, waiting. Let it end. Let it be over.

 

Something grabbed her arm, knocking the frame away and keeping her from falling.

 

Someone in power armor?

 

She struggled. How could Arthur have survived? How could he have found some power armor? It wasn’t fair.

 

“Nora!” That voice. She knew that voice, would know it anywhere, even through the damned helmet.

 

“Danse?”

 

He wrapped an arm around her. “Hold on, this isn’t going to be fun, and it’s probably going to hurt quite a lot.”

 

Nora wrapped her arms around him, the sharp edges of his suit cutting into her, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered as long as he was alive, as long as he was there.

 

The blast of his jetpack propelled them up, toward the back of the ship. He avoided the falling debris, though a few smaller pieces struck them. Wrenches, a pistol, nothing to leave more than a bruise. The door to the forecastle was open, probably how he’d gotten in, and he angled them through it.

 

The Prydwen hit the ground, a blast of heat singeing Nora as the air caught her hair.

 

The ground rushed toward them, the jetpack turning on and off to slow their descent, each use jerking them as it slowed them down.

 

When they hit the ground on the beach, metal snapped. She sunk into the sand and her head struck the steel of Danse’s chest.

 

Everything went dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to end it with this chapter, but decided to cut it in half and give a better, longer, more smut/fluff filled final chapter with Nora and Danse. I figured they'd earned it after all this, lol. So, ONE MORE chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

 Something cold touched her head. Nora muttered, lifting her hands to shove at the annoyance.

 

“Leave it be, Nora. You’ve got a lump on your head and the ice will help it go down.” Danse.

 

Wetness tracked down her cheeks. His voice, not through a suit, helped the parts of her she’d thought were broken. It was the lifeline she'd needed, the one that said maybe this all could have been worth it.

 

“Hey, now. Don’t do that.” Warm fingers brushed her cheeks, clearing the tears. “Are you hurting? We can give you another dose of Med-x.”

 

Nora forced her eyes open to meet Danse’s. She grasped his shirt and pulled him closer until she could reach his lips, until she could kiss him.

 

He didn’t hesitate, not anymore. He returned it with every bit of passion she had, telling her with it that he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him. She knew her nails had to be biting into him, but if he cared, he didn’t say a thing about it.

 

Danse broke the kiss after a moment. “Deacon told you to be off the ship before you blew those explosives. Leave it to you to never listen to good advice.”

 

“I thought Arthur had killed you. He showed me Sanctuary, showed me what he did. I thought you were gone. I didn’t care about getting off the Prydwen.”

 

“Do you really think we wouldn’t be prepared for that? Deacon had an agent on the Prydwen who let us know before the Brotherhood showed. No one was there when they destroyed it. I’m pretty sure he knew he hadn’t gotten anyone, but I don’t think he cared. I think the whole thing was for your benefit, and so as long as he could convince you, nothing else mattered.”  

 

Nora moved to sitting, Danse grasping her shoulder to help her. He was always there to help her, to shoulder anything he could for her. Where Arthur had made her feel trapped, Danse made her feel safe.

 

“What happened up there? We were making plans, you know. We were going to hit the police station, commandeer a vertibird, and rescue you.”

 

But that would have forced Danse to kill Brotherhood soldiers, men and women who were like siblings to him, all to save her. She'd never have wanted that.

 

“I’m glad you didn’t. And it doesn’t matter what happened. It’s over, and I’m here.”

 

He set a hand on her cheek. “I was afraid I’d lost you. When I saw the evacuation, I was terrified I’d lost you.”

 

Nora set her hand over his. “Never.”

 

“Well, you did try to ride a flaming blimp to the ground.”

 

“And you saved me.”

 

He smiled, leaning in to place his forehead against hers. “It was about time I was able to save you. Now, lie back down. You’ve earned some rest.”

 

#

 

_One Month Later_

 

Danse wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm. He was not unused to hard work. When in the Brotherhood, he’d worked from sun up to sun down, pushing through any discomfort.

 

Caring for settlements turned out to be similar.

 

Though admitting it was hard, he’d enjoyed the quiet life. He’d fought for so long in the Brotherhood ranks, he’d forgotten when it felt like to do otherwise. He still fought when he was needed, since raiders and super mutants enjoyed testing their defenses, but now it was a small portion of his life rather than all of it.

 

Most days he worked with Sturges, repairing needed defenses and infrastructure of the settlements, or working on the crops.

 

It gave him an odd sense of peace.

 

Though, the largest part of his peace was the woman currently arguing with Preston. She pointed toward the wall that surrounded Sanctuary, jamming it that way like she could make him understand by that alone. Danse didn't know what they were fighting about this time, didn't really care.

 

Her arguing had him smiling.

 

For the first two weeks after she’d gotten back, she hadn’t argued with anyone. It had been as if she hadn’t realized she’d won, like she hadn’t come back at all.

 

Slowly, she’d ventured out, talking to her friends, realizing that it was over.

 

They hadn’t had sex yet, and that was fine with him. It didn’t take a mind reader to figure what Arthur had done while he’d had her. She’d woken from her share of nightmares, though she didn’t pull away when they happened. She reached for him, curling around him, pressing her nose against his throat like his scent made it better.

 

Still, this spark of anger, of her caring about something, it eased him. It said she could recover.

 

Nora set her hands on her hips, twisting to catch sight of Danse. The annoyance on her face drifted away as she returned his smile, her gaze moving over him the way she did it making him blush.

 

She offered a wink before turning her attention back to her fight with Preston.

 

How had he ever turned out so lucky?

 

#

 

This was it. Nora had known it the moment she’d looked back at Danse during her fight with Preston.

 

It had been a month since Arthur had died, since she’d put that behind her. A month of stolen kisses and falling asleep beside the man she loved, the one she’d been given a second chance with. A second chance she didn't deserve, could never earn, but one she wouldn't waste, either.

 

She was tired of waiting, tired of letting Arthur steal this. He’d stolen too many things.

 

Danse leaned over her, body lifted to not press her into the mattress, but it wasn’t enough. Would it ever be enough?

 

She pulled him closer until he rested his weight against her. She needed to feel him, all of him, to be there in the moment with just them.

 

“I don’t want to crowd you,” he said.

 

“You’re going to be inside me in a minute, Danse. I think crowding me isn’t something we should worry about.”

 

His lips pressed together in that way she loved, the way that said he thought she was absurd. She kissed the pout off them, trying to coax him out of his own head and into her.

 

He was always too worried, always afraid he was moving too fast, always terrified of becoming Arthur. He’d admitted it one night, admitted that he had nightmares sometimes about turning into Arthur, that she’d look at him one day with the same hatred she’d looked at Arthur with.

 

It would never happen. Danse was all the things Arthur hadn’t been, all the things he’d been incapable of.

 

Nora slid her leg up and around Danse’s hip, then hooked it around his thigh to get him to get to it already. Slow was good. They’d done slow. What she needed now was him.

 

He groaned but obeyed her silent request. He filled her with a slow push, her leg tightening around him.

 

He’d spent so long getting her ready it didn’t even sting. Nothing but pleasure, but a sense of finally having what she wanted.

 

Nothing was between them, now. No fucking ship in the sky, no risk, no secrets. Just them.

 

Danse kissed her as he took her, his muscles flexing beneath her hands. She touched his stomach as he rolled his hips forward, his groan slipping past her lips.

 

Her hips lifted toward him, leg used as leverage, trying to get as close as she could, to have as much of him as she could take.

 

And he gave her everything. He never held a thing back from her, willing to let her have anything.

 

Arthur had said love was war because he’d lived his life in war. He’d understood nothing else. He’d thought he needed to conquer, to take over, to own. It was what had killed him at the end, his own obsession with control. Nora had accepted it because it was easy, because it had seemed safer.

 

Nora still wasn’t sure she could say what love was. It wasn’t war, it wasn’t pain, it wasn’t the fight for control she'd had with Arthur. 

 

In the end, while she couldn’t explain it, she knew the only thing that mattered.

 

Love was what she’d found with Danse, and it was the only thing worth going to war for.

 


End file.
